Recorded in one take, fabric 87 captures the peak-time spirit of fabric's Room 2, and showcases exclusive edits from the DJ and remixes of currently boxfresh tracks like "Lolly Pop" by Reset Robot. So it's a shame that the mix runs out of energy before the end, pulling the knockout blow it should have had.

Most of The Triad lacks darkness or tension, which results in a lack of depth and contrast.

Where his best music was like reading pages from a diary, Rojus can feel like a passionate retelling of memories that were never his.

Under The Sun isn't the major departure that it seems on the surface, but rather a pleasant detour through mythical, imagined landscapes.

For a debut album from such a young artist, 99.9% is remarkably self-assured. It sets up Celestin as someone carving out his niche.

Oh No is an inventive and enjoyable pop record that only falls short of Lanza's own standards.

Yoyogi Park is at its best on the tracks where Kersten wanders out of his comfort zone.

Konnichiwa isn't perfect, but it mostly accomplishes the goals Skepta set for himself, and is certainly one of the best grime has seen so far.

The permanent ache in Blake's voice is one of his most arresting qualities, but it grows tiresome as The Colour In Anything wades through its 76 minutes.

Following shaky albums from both Yorke and Radiohead, A Moon Shaped Pool suggests that they were right to keep the faith.

For a project of its size and vision, Vol. 1 is remarkably coherent. It's a testament to the label's endurance and vitality that they assembled so many top-notch exclusive tracks from friends both old and new.

On the self-produced Will, there's an extraordinary confidence behind Barwick's voice and arrangements.

The Ship, his sixth Warp record in seven years, entwines various threads from these albums [Small Craft On A Milk Sea, Lux, and Highlife] into a heady amalgam that stands as his best work for the label to date.

This LP has the duo's best music; each track offers something to marvel at. But put them all together and it's like watching the world end 11 times in a row: what at first seems fearsome eventually turns mundane.

I AKA I moves from peak to peak, and you're never more than a couple of tracks away from open-mouthed awe.

Honey lacks the coherence of her previous albums, but as a love letter to the rave it's eloquent and sincere.

With a relatively small number of building blocks, Acre has built an album that feels varied, showcases a range of emotion and, most importantly, feels whole.

The album is overproduced and polished to a fault, often vague and uninteresting. It's the defining characteristic of Become Alive. The individual performances are undeniably full of flavor and complexity, but put together they can overwhelm.

For all of its differences, Utility only sounds unnatural in the Kowton discography when it undermines the strengths of the music before it.

As the realised aspirations of Myson's inner-teen, Hollowed is startlingly articulate and mature.

Stott's latest marks a new stage on this journey into the pop unknown, but it feels like he's not quite there yet.

Petrol finds the artist coming into his own, interpreting his life experience into sublime electro-acoustic music.

These short tracks hint at the more compact and engaging album #N/A could've been. But on "#2," the collaborators show they can also pull off long-form.

On EARS, Smith emerges as a novel, naturalistic and, yes, pop-savvy voice wielding an instrument known for esoteric experimentalism.

Potential is largely a wonderful collection of uplifting and humbling electronic pop.

Trendy as Silver's interests may have become, On Vacation feels no less personal and awe-inspiring in its stillness.

Where McRyhew's first full-length approached footwork with playful individualism, this record favours freeform acid and techno structures.

The Last Panthers goes further, illustrating a picture of its own.